


Time Crimes of Future Past

by salamandelbrot



Category: Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 12:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9607715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamandelbrot/pseuds/salamandelbrot
Summary: After the New Day's time travel adventures, Xavier Woods finds himself in an alternate timeline.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedLeaderfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/gifts).



> THE BEST GLITCH! I'm so glad it happened again.
> 
> Happy Chocolate Box!

Xavier's apartment was different in this timeline. Better decorated. Same game system, though. He moved to the kitchen, looking for clues to what exactly their little time-travel jaunt had changed. There were couple-y pictures of him and Tyler on he fridge. Phew, one time-travel worry down, he hadn't disappeared his boyfriend. 

Maybe that was why the place looked so nice - maybe Tyler'd moved in. He checked the bathroom. If Tyler _wasn't_ living with him, he was staying over often enough to leave his hair stuff. 

He moved on to the bedroom. Man, Tyler really had an eye for this stuff. All the decor paired so well with the DBZ comforter. Even their posters and... 

Xavier stared, forgetting to breathe. Nice frame. Lisa Frank stickers on the glass. It was in a frou-frou font that made the small words hard to read, but the big ones said "Xavier Woods" and "Doctor of Philosophy." 

How many times had he wished his dissertation could just be done, that he could skip the part in between where he had to write it? Well, now he had. For the first time in the history of time travel stories, the butterfly had flapped his way. 

The Zelda item-acquisition fanfare jerked him out of his reverie and he fumbled for his phone. It was Tyler. 

**where r u? dixie's flipping tables**

Xavier groaned. Of course that was the price, he was still working in TNA. Well, hell, he could take that. Kofi and E were still from the right timeline, the three of them could get it back to normal. 

Alarm bells were ringing in the back of his mind, but it took him a minute to figure out why. Tyler. Oh god, no. 

**how do you know what dixie's flipping?**

**bc i'm at work  
where you're supposed to be**

They were both at TNA. Something he'd done in the past had left Tyler working at TNA. He had go back and- his eyes were glued to his doctorate degree, heart pounding. Could he? Could he _not_? 

Then it hit him. The real source of those alarm bells. It was fashion week. 

**shoudln't you be in paris?**

**ha ha vr funny you know there's no such thing as a wrestling model  
you coming or what?**

Xavier's shaking hands slowed him down as he typed. 

**i'm sick, tell dixie.**

This was wrong, it was all wrong. He had to figure out what he'd changed. 

Think, Xavier, think. No such thing as a wrestling model. He wiki'd Rick Martel. Canadian professional wrestler, blah blah blah, holy shit, Strike Force never broke up. They went broadway with the Rock 'n' Rolls at some indy show last week, which sounded _awesome_ , but no breakup meant no Rick the Model, meant no role-model model for little Tyler. 

Okay, great. But why? They hadn't made a pit stop for tag-team marriage conselling in the late 80s WWF. Unless they _had_ , and for whatever weird time reason Xavier couldn't remember it. 

He looked up Marty Jannetty to be sure. He winced. Nope. Deinitely not. First lesson at the New Day's school of tag team positivity: putting your partner through a plate glass window is booty. 

As he scrolled down despondantly, his eyes caught on the phrase "accused Jannetty of costing them the tag team titles." 

Hold up. The Rockers held the belts in this timeline. 

That was a lead he could follow. They'd won the titles from the Hart Foundation at Wrestlemania V. Suppressing the urge to glance around guiltily, Xavier fired up the Network. A couple minutes wouldn't hurt! He literally had a time machine! 

One thing led to another, led to an hour long orgy of dailymotion and fanfiction. He now knew the Strike Force shipname was Martana and that you could not find a freaking Brain Busters match in this timeline for love nor money. 

Actually, that was something. Didn't Strike Force have their big blow up when the going got tough in a Brain Busters match? Shit, yes, that was right, at Mania V, even. But that match never happened and instead the Rockers spent the night upsetting the Harts. 

Okay, okay, that was something. There were no Brain Busters in this timeline, why not? His first wild thought, that Big E had smacked Ole so hard his brother retired, was probably not why. Probably. 

So what were Arn and Tully doing instead of terrorizing the WWF tag division? A quick click over to Arn's page told him they were both beating on Sting with the rest of the Horsemen, because of course they were. No help there. Unless... 

No, no one especially weird as the other two Horsemen, just Ric and Lex. Damn. Xavier racked his brain, trying to think of other leads he could follow. What the hell had they done to Rick Martel? 

His phone beeped twice. 

**r u dead?**  
**turn on tv to see my gorgeous face if not dead or puking**

He sent some hearts and kisses and turned on the TV as instruced. Still Spike, whatever else their time travel shenanigans had wrought they apparently hadn't managed to get TNA picked up by a less embarrassing channel. 

Tyler was informing the Impact Zone of the assorted fashion crimes of his opponent of the evening. It sounded very serious. Day-glo facepaint was mentioned. 

Xavier was all ready to see some hapless fashion-felon get Beauty Spotted into orbit like Team Rocket when familiar music began to play. He couldn't even place it at first, it was so out of place in the Impact Zone, and then Sting came on screen. 

Not Crow-cosplay Sting. Not even weird Wolfpac Sting with the red facepaint. Straight up Pre-Crisis Sting. What the fuck did they do? 

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Xavier realized he might just know what the fuck he'd done. Hoo boy. Fixing this was going to be not great. 

As Tyler and Sting squared off, Xavier propped his phone up on the coffee table, set it recording (sorry not sorry, Alternate Timeline Dixie, im in ur base bootleggin ur doods), and settled back into the couch to watch. Full life consequences could wait, there was no way in hell he was missing this match. 

The Stinger could still go, but quick little Tyler and his educated feet ran rings around him in the opening minutes. Until Sting caught a foot and Tyler went for an enzuigiri. Xavier gasped as Sting ducked, still holding on to Tyler's ankle, and deftly snatched his other foot out the air. _He's going for the Scorpion Death Lock,_ he thought, scooting to the edge of the couch cushion in worry. How would Tyler get free? 

Abruptly, the footage cut backstage. Because apparently Hulk Hogan walking down a hallway to bang on Vince Russo's door was what they needed to be putting on their TV instead of motherfucking Sting vs. Tyler. Good, awesome, great, that was fantastic. What next? Huh? DOA bought TNA with Nazi biker gold? Brody Tyson was an actual dude and tagging with Xavier? What? 

This timeline was _booty_. 

* * *

Tyler opened the door to their apartment and nearly dropped the container of soup he'd picked up for Xavier. 

"...is that an empty refrigerator box?" 

His poor, clearly feverish boyfriend poked his head out the side of the ridiculous eyesore currently occupying the middle of their living room. "It's the New DayLorean! I rebuilt it, Tyler, it works!" 

He ran to Xavier's side and wrapped an arm around him. Was it safe for him to be doing... whatever he was doing in this box, when he was sick and confused? What if he got a cardboard cut? "Xavier, baby, that's great, now come sit down and let me take care of you," he coaxed, "I brought soup." 

"Oh, Breezy." Xavier's eyes were wide and his lip trembled. He kissed Tyler so passionately that it took a whole minute for Tyler to remember his boyfriend was a walking contagion. 

He jerked away in alarm. "Ew, germs!" 

"Sorry, I didn't think." With a guilty smile, Xavier held Tyler at arm's length, giving his hips a fond squeeze. "Hope I don't get you sick." 

Tyler sniffed. "Well, already you did. So you might as well kiss me some more." 

"Are you sure?" Xavier asked, eyes sparkling. 

"Definitely." Tyler coughed pointedly. "I can feel it coming on already." 

"Poor Prince Pretty." Xavier pulled him close and kissed him again. 

The tension of the day melted away as they made out. Even the aches and pains Mr. Fashion Don'ts of 1987 had laid on him weren't so bad with Xavier to lean on. His job might be a hellhole full of unappreciative uggos, but at least he had the best boyfriend in the whole world. 

He slid his hands up under Xavier's t-shirt - some obscure nerd thing, he noticed fondly. Cute colors, though. Whatever the hell UpUpDownDown was, someone involved had an eye for design. 

They were both getting pretty handsy and Tyler was thinking he ought to suggest lying down, since they were both so sick and weak, when the lights started flickering. Not just a normal flicker on and off, but all the colors of the rainbow. Tyler gasped. "What-" 

There was a strange hum in the air, increasing in volume as the lights flashed faster. "The New DayLorean! We must have jumpstarted the unicorn drive with, well, you know." He grinned sheepishly and, even with a freaking unicorn magic refrigerator box revving up in their living room, Tyler's heart beat faster looking at him, with his cute dimples and his nerd shirt rucked up under his arms. 

The hum intensified to a howl and they looked at each other in alarm. With a sudden motion that caught Tyler off guard, Xavier shoved him clear of the flashing box. 

"Xavier!" 

"I love you, Tyler!" shouted Xavier over the roar of the unicorn drive. "I love you more than I love not writing my dissertation!" 

* * *

It was 1988 and Xavier had to be careful. He found them in the Waffle House, just where he knew he would. Because he remembered. 

"But the thing is," his past self was telling a solemnly listening Sting, "some people are just booty, and they're never going to do right by you. And when you know that's how it's gonna be, the best thing you can do is keep all their garbage out of your life. Lex doesn't have to be your enemy but he sure as hell ain't your friend." 

Xavier winced as he watched Sting nodding earnestly. This positivity was too powerful for mere mortals to control. He had played Wrestling God, now he must play Wrestling Satan. He waited for himself to leave - what a sentence, time travel was ridiculous - and took the vacant seat beside Sting. 

_Oh, Tyler. It is a far, far worse thing that I do, than I have ever done._

"My twin brother gives _terrible_ advice," Xavier said, forcing a grin. "Don't listen to him. Listen to your _heart_ , man. Maybe Lex just needs someone to give him a chance, a little understanding." 

"Yeah!" Sting's face lit up. "If he had a good tag team partner, someone positive in his corner...." 

He patted Sting on the shoulder encouragingly. "That's the spirit, buddy." 

Xavier slunk back to the New DayLorean and set a course for home. 

Back in the future, he found Tyler, curled up on the couch reading the latest Vogue, looking utterly unfazed. "Was time travel fun?" 

Xavier looked at him bleakly and blurted out, "I ruined Sting's life so you wouldn't have to work in TNA." 

"That's really hot," said Tyler, setting the Vogue on the coffee table next to him. "Really super hot." He lay back and opened his shirt to illustrate just how hot it was. 

"I should shower first," said Xavier, feeling a little better. "I smell like Waffle House and shame." 

"Want me to join you? Conserve water?" Tyler asked, sprawling artfully on the couch in a seductive pose. "Saving the planet might make you feel better." 

Finally, a laugh broke though Xavier's despondency. "Yes, please." He held his arms out and Tyler unfolded off the couch and dived into them. 

Tyler squeezed him tight. "I'm glad you made it home." 

"Me too."


End file.
